In the almost one hundred and fifty years since the battle of Gettysburg, Pickett's Charge has become the most well known and well discussed event of the entire three day battle. Popularized by thousands of first hand accounts, hundreds of books, and countless legends, the charge has been called the "High Water Mark of the Confederacy" for good reason. It was General Robert E. Lee's last big shot. Realistically, it was his final chance to strike a crushing blow to the increasingly-powerful Army of the Potomac under the cautious leadership of George McClellan. Many historians claim that he put all of his eggs in one basket and was far too optimistic in his chances of success. They assert that he was foolhardy and did not have a reasonable chance of victory. Breaking through the Union line at the center was a pipedream. What if Lee would have broken through though? What if waves of rebel soldiers had flooded the breech made by Armistead and the roughly two hundred men that crossed the stone wall? What if Stuart's cavalry was waiting behind the Union line ready to trap the retreating federal soldiers?
Lee was not a dumb man, and his tactics at Gettysburg, especially on the third day, were no different than his tactics during many of the battles that he won (see the Peninsula Campaign). Lee had weighed the chances of success and failure, and he knew he was taking a chance. He knew, however, that the benefits gained from such a charge far outweighed the risks associated with one. And further, he knew that a massive frontal assault on the Union center had a reasonable chance of success. Lee's plan to attack the Union center on Cemetery Ridge was bold, but it was also a plan that had much merit to it and could have succeeded. Largely regarded as the low point of Lee's soldiering career, it should instead be considered a highlight that went slightly awry.
One first has to take into account the confidence level of both armies after the close of the second day. Lee's army was just coming off a very unlikely victory at Chancellorsville where they were outnumbered nearly two to one. They had been trapped in between two huge bodies of Union troops (one at Fredricksburg and one in the Wilderness), and they had fought off Hooker, and then smashed his left flank with a devastating flanking maneuver. On the first day of Gettysburg, Lee's men had sent the Union army scurrying into the town of Gettysburg and beyond onto Cemetery Ridge and Cemetery Hill. It is a little known fact, but the Union I Corps, which had originally under the late John F. Reynolds, sustained over 6,000 casualties alone during the course of the battle-most of those on the first day. The XI Corps under Oliver Howard sustained nearly 4,000, nearly all on the first day as well. Two thirds of federal prisoners were taken on the first day compared to 750 Confederates. In sum, Meade's army had been soundly beaten on day one. Day two was almost the same story for Meade's army, and this was not lost on Lee.
Had it not been for the late start time on the second day, Hoods' and McLaws' divisions of Longstreet's Corps would have most likely taken the Union left flank fairly easily. Crucial junctures such as Little Round Top and the southern flank of Cemetery Ridge would have been very lightly defended, and much, if not most, of Daniel Sickles' Third Corps would have been surrounded, then summarily slaughtered in the "Valley of Death" and the Peach Orchard. On the Union right, Culp's Hill would have been a tougher challenge but wouldn't have mattered if the Union line was being rolled up from the south. As it was, the Union army had suffered over 2,000 more casualties than the Confederates on the second day.
Lee knew all this in the early morning hours of July 3. His army had nearly destroyed Meade's twice, and he was confident that one more attack would finish them for good. On the second day Lee had hammered both flanks, and each flank had been bolstered-the southern flank by Sedgwick's humungous sixth corps, and the right flank by Howard's eleventh and Slocum's twelfth. Naturally, the weakness was in the center. Morale was still high, and there was a reasonably large portion of Lee's army that had not seen combat yet, or had at least seen very little.
The gains from the success of such an attack also far outweighed the losses with the possibility of failure. If the Union line was broken on Cemetery Ridge, the whole line would fold. Any time a line is broken in the center two flanks are automatically exposed. It only takes the attacking columns minutes to turn on the exposed flanks and fire volleys down the line. Victory at Gettysburg would be virtually assured. Victory at Gettysburg meant a victory on northern soil that was far more than just a military victory. It was a social, political, and economic victory as well that would likely turn northern opinion against the war and against Lincoln, who was already straining with all his might to keep the country together. Harrisburg was close, as was Philadelphia. But more importantly, Baltimore and Washington were just a few days' forced march away. A rebel victory at Gettysburg was likely a rebel victory in the war.
The attack itself had a reasonable chance of success. Lee had attempted the same type of attack on many occasions, just not on such a large scale. During the Seven Day's campaign, he had successively hammered the Union lines at Beaver Dam Creek, Gaines Mill, and less successfully, at Malvern Hill. It wasn't so much that each attack was successful, but more so that each attack proved again and again that Lee was a stronger and more capable commander than McClellan, who had a larger, better equipped army. George Meade was similar to McClellan in many ways and Lee chose to use a similar strategy: hammer the line and break the back not necessarily of the men, but of the commander. If Meade chose to fall back just a bit, it would be a repeat of countless other campaigns, but this time it would be on northern soil. The final result would be much different.
One of the main components of the charge was the preliminary artillery bombardment, which was orchestrated by Longstreet's artillery commander, Pendleton. It was the largest of the war up until that time, and it was so critical because in order for the charge to succeed, it had to silence the Union guns. It did not do this. The confederate cannons largely overshot the Union line. Had they been more accurate, the charge could have been a much different story. Also, units of Confederate artillery were supposed to advance with the Confederate main attack. Due to misinformation this did not happen.
Further, the attack on the union center was supposed to be accompanied by an attack on the Union right on Culp's Hill by Ewell's corps. This would have forced Meade to keep troops over in that area and would have held up potential reinforcements. Ewell started early however, and was beaten back by the time Pickett actually advanced, allowing Meade to easily reinforce his relatively thin center line in time for the charge. A key to the whole day was coordination, and this did not happen as Lee planned. To Lee, the attack on July third was simply a continuation of something that nearly worked on July second-just a more coordinated version.
In the end, one cannot fault Lee for making the choice he did to attack the Union center on the third day of the battle. With unwavering confidence in his troops, and good reason to believe that they could take out any portion of the Union line, there was no better option in Lee's mind than to take out the center. The attack was well planned but not well orchestrated. If the coordination with the flank attack and artillery bombardment would have been there, the result might have been much different-not only the result of the battle, but of the war as well.